


Sam Winchester: The Boy With the Demon Blood

by What_a_Winchester_Wants



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Addiction, Angry Dean Winchester, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Big Brother Dean Winchester, Castiel & Dean Winchester Friendship, Confused Castiel, Don't Like Don't Read, F/M, Fluff, Graphic Description, Hot 'n' Heavy Sex, Hurt Sam Winchester, Jealous Sam Winchester, M/M, Multi, My First Work in This Fandom, POV Castiel, POV Dean Winchester, POV Gabriel, POV Sam Winchester, Protective Gabriel, Sam Winchester-centric, Slow Build, Slow Romance, Smut, Spoilers, Suicidal Sam Winchester, Suicidal Thoughts, Threesome - M/M/M, Trickster Gabriel, Triggers, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-31
Updated: 2018-05-12
Packaged: 2018-07-11 08:35:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7041040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/What_a_Winchester_Wants/pseuds/What_a_Winchester_Wants
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam Winchester was a faithful man. He prayed every day to a God that never answered. He hunted bad creatures that did bad things, and he didn’t expect to receive any thanks for his job. When he drank demon blood, he prayed for forgiveness, and when he stopped, he prayed for strength. He’d prayed for Dean so many times it wasn’t funny any more. And just before Sam met Castiel, he’d prayed for help.<br/>He’d thought his prayer had been answered – it was an Angel of the Lord, how could it not be – but then that angel said those damning words that gnawed at his insides:<br/>“Sam Winchester, the boy with the demon blood.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: Angels Vs Demons

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, this is my first fic in this Fandom. Don't get me wrong, I love Supernatural. But I only recently just got into the written portion of the fandom because I didn't think I would like it. (I was wrong.) Just so you know, not everything will be correct because I need to move some of the canonical stuff around. So if a character pops up where they're not supposed to be, just ignore it, please! Also, I will try to mark the slash/sex scenes and gore, but if I miss any, I'm sorry.

Sam Winchester was a faithful man. He prayed every day to a God that never answered. He hunted bad creatures that did bad things, and he didn’t expect to receive any thanks for his job. When he drank demon blood, he prayed for forgiveness, and when he stopped, he prayed for strength. He’d prayed for Dean so many times it wasn’t funny any more. And just before Sam met Castiel, he’d prayed for help.

He’d thought his prayer had been answered – it was an Angel of the Lord, how could it not be – but then that angel said those damning words that gnawed at his insides:

“Sam Winchester, the boy with the demon blood.”

When Dean had said that the being in front of him was Castiel, he had been in awe: this was a real angel in front of him. He thought he would never get to meet one, assuming that when he died, he would go to hell because of all the shit he’d done. When he saw Castiel hesitate to take his hand, he pushed his doubts away. Angels probably didn’t know handshakes, right?

But he knew it had to be too good to be true, because immediately after, his heart froze at just one sentence in a way that had never happened before. This was what the angels thought of when they heard his name. It wasn’t Sam Winchester, it was Sam Winchester, the boy with the demon blood.

So Sam did what Winchesters did best: he suppressed all his emotions and carried on. Outwardly, it looked as if he pulled himself together. He paid no mind to the lingering weight on his hand, the one he’d used to shake Castiel’s with, and the voice telling him that he had tainted something so pure with his touch. He let Dean threaten the angels and talk on, while he waited in the background, unnoticed. Life went on.

 

†††††

 

Sam pretended to be asleep. He made his breathing and his heartbeat even out so that it would seem legit if anyone checked on him. He didn’t want to deal with anyone at the moment. And so he just listened to Dean rattle away about their last case to Castiel with a heavy mind.

Dean and Castiel were getting closer. It was subtle, but Dean was integrating the angel into more of their lives. Sam thought back to this case.

Sam had been back at the motel getting their things ready for a hunt while Dean talked with one of the witnesses. As it turned out, the witness was the killer and turned on Dean. Then Dean called Castiel instead of reaching for his phone to call his brother. Sam was glad that Castiel saved his brother (it was what he prayed for, after all) but this was proof that Sam was not Dean’s number one any more. Castiel was Dean’s first thought. And it broke Sam’s heart.

When they got to the new motel, he faked waking up and gathered his things, lethargy not fake any more.

Why can’t I be better? He said to himself. Why do I keep fucking up?

Sam stepped out of the bathroom, fresh clothes on and a towel around his shoulders while he dried his hair.

“Samuel, I was telling Dean about how angels have the ability to see past the plane of Earth so as to see human souls. May I look at yours?” Castiel asked, eyes directed at him but his body pointed at Dean.

The thought of the angel being able to see his failure made his throat close.

“I, uh, I’d rather you not, actually.” Dean’s eyes slid to his face, knowing exactly why Sam refused. Castiel looked confused for a second before turning to Dean.

“Dean? May I look at you soul, then?”

Dean gave Sam one last once over before answering.

“Sure, go for it. Get your eye-full,” he said cockily.

Castiel tilted his head and narrowed his eyes as he tried to process what Dean meant, before he evidentially disregarded it as not important.

Both Dean and Sam’s eyes widened as Castiel’s eyes started to glow, blue light radiating from them, almighty and piercing.

“This is what we put the fate of the human world in,” Castiel said quietly. He didn’t say it as a judgement, but that was the way Sam interpreted it. How were a pair of sinning brothers the only option for the angels to choose from? How did any of this make any sense? There was very few things Dean hasn’t done, and Sam had demon blood in him. How were they going to save anyone when they couldn’t even save themselves?


	2. Sacrifices

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam knows that sacrifices must be made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like I said, things are going to be different. Everything was the same until now, so after 4.16 it will be different. Things will move around because different things happened. Don't get mad at me if I mess up! Leave a comment if you find something so stupid that I'll want to slap myself though, I don't like stupid... And thank you for the previous reviews and kudos. I hope you like this next installment.

Castiel wasn’t sure what to expect as he waited for Dean and Sam Winchester to enter the motel. Sam was infamous in heaven; whenever the angels spoke of him, you could often hear their revulsion to what was inside his blood.

As it was, Castiel thought that the demon blood inside of him had to have affected him in some way, aside from the abilities to exorcize his half-kin. Surely Castiel would be able to see the evil that rested behind that hunter façade. Sam Winchester might even be against being in the same room with not one, but two angels. Perhaps his eyes might flicker black for a moment when he took in the holy scene in front of him.

What Castiel did not expect was reverence, awe, and excitement shining from hazel eyes. Nothing about this man screamed demon. When Sam had held out his hand, Castiel had been shocked and slightly hesitant. Would he be able to feel the taint that this man carried? Would he be able to feel the evil in his veins.

So Castiel took Sam’s hand in his own and felt… nothing. He could not distinguish Sam from his brother in any regard. In fact, if he were to choose which brother he would rather have as a champion, he would choose Sam. Sam radiated purity in the same way Dean radiated sin.

Then he saw Sam’s face fall as he spoke, and something flashed across the younger Winchester’s face, too quick for Castiel to register. He was an Angel of the Lord, and was not used to emotions on a human level, so he brushed it off. He had not said anything upsetting, after all, he had just stated a fact. But he kept an eye on Sam throughout the conversation – saw the way he pulled back, the way he only spoke when it seemed necessary, the way he never really looked anyone other than Dean in the eye, keeping his gaze on his brother or the floor.

It was a mystery to Castiel. Human emotions were really complex, and he had not been near enough to humans to separate anything besides the basics, but Castiel knew that there was a major difference between Sam Winchester from before and after he spoke with Castiel.

Castiel was almost hyper-aware of his hands. He had held demon tainted hands, hands that felt no different than human ones, but he could not find any disgust inside him.

It was a mystery to Castiel, but he did not have time for mysteries. He had to focus on the real problem, and that was the witches trying to raise Samhain. He promised himself that he would focus on helping Dean, as were his orders.

And losing was not an option.

†††††

Sam Winchester sat on the bonnet of the Impala, watching the sun rise over the horizon. He tried to keep his thoughts on his current case, but they kept straying towards Dean and Castiel. A lot of stuff had happened since Castiel had first shown up. All of this angel and demon business was starting to get to him.

At first, the hunt was something that would help others. Nobody asked for their help, but they did it anyway. Now, though, it was different. Sam and Dean were expected to help in a war they had no part in. They were being told that they had to fight with beings that are so much stronger than humans it wasn’t fair.

And now, Sam was getting tired. Of everything. It was a chore to wake up in the morning, to eat, to act like everything was alright when it wasn’t. He just wanted it all to end.

He thought back to what Pamela had said. He knew she was right. The demon blood couldn’t be helping anything.

I’m going to quit, Sam said to himself. I’m going to stop drinking it. I’ll say no to Ruby, and I’ll try to do better.

Of course, that was easier said than done. Over the next few days, Sam started to feel off. He knew that Dean had noticed as well by the looks he received when he said he wasn’t hungry or that he was going to bed early. They were still hunting for a case, but Sam was going slower than usual. It was a matter of time before everything went to shit.

†††††

It started on a rainy day.

Sam and Dean had been at the bar and Dean had drank a little too much. Usually, the two brothers stuck together when they went drinking, but Sam was feeling a little off again and was hanging out near the back, just watching his brother flirt with a woman at the bar.

Sam could see the tenseness in Dean’s face, and the stress in his posture. Even with the amount of beer he’d consumed in the last hour didn’t help with those.

And so, Sam watched and waited. Dean downed glass after glass, and Sam let him, because everybody needs to forget every once in a while. Sam didn’t know what Dean had to face with Alastair, because he hadn’t been there, but he knew it had to be bad by the way Dean was hunched over.

Soon enough, Dean forgot about Alastair, even if it was for a little bit. But he also did something he’d never done before – he forgot about Sammy. He’d never gotten drunk enough to forget that Sammy had come with him, but as he followed the woman from the bar outside, he didn’t even look over his should to see if his brother was okay.

Sam thought his brother was just stepping outside for a bit to chat up another woman in a quieter place. But five minutes turned to ten, and ten turned to thirty, and when Sam stepped out of the bar to see what was taking Dean so long, he was met with an Impala-less parking lot. Hurt raced through his chest, as he stood in the rain for far longer than he should have before he started the walk to the motel.

Dean had never forgotten him before. In all of the trouble that had surrounded them, Dean had always had Sam’s back. But now it seemed like Sam was one of the last things on Dean’s mind. Now, Dean had Castiel to rely on.

And Sam couldn’t begrudge his brother wanting to rely on an angel.

“Castiel? Can- can you hear me?” Sam asked the sky, uncaring of the rain that fell on his face, and unsure if Castiel would answer. He certainly had no reason to think that the angel cared for him enough to come when he called.

“Hello, Sam.” Sam turned and saw Castiel standing just a few feet away from him.

“Hey, Castiel, thanks for coming.” Sam tucked some of his hair behind his ears, a nervous habit he’d picked up at college. Castiel said nothing, just stood there. Sam felt his breath catch in his throat at how unresponsive he was, but he shoved away that thought for later. “I’m worried about Dean.”

Castiel tilted his head.

“Dean is fine, his physical health is perfect, discounting the damage tonight has done to his liver.”

“I know he’s fine physically,” Sam started. “But… whatever happened with Alastair… it’s messing with his head. I don’t know what to do besides be there for him, but I thought that- since you and Dean are becoming friends and all that you could… I don’t know, talk to him about it? He won’t talk to me. He doesn’t want me to know exactly what went on down there, but you already know. Could you talk to him, Castiel? Please?”

Castiel stared at him for what seemed far longer than it should have – it was as if he was staring at Sam’s soul, but Sam knew that to be untrue – and said a single word before disappearing, leaving Sam in the rain:

“Yes.”

Sam smiled in thanks, even thought Castiel couldn’t see him, and continued down the road to the motel. He didn’t blame Castiel for leaving him in the rain, Sam wouldn’t want to touch him either.

‡‡‡

Dean had left the woman he’d picked up at the bar in the parking lot, not willing to chance her in the Impala. He got to the motel and sat on the edge of his bed, trying not to think about anything.

There was something in the back of his head that he was sure he should remember, but he pushed that away with all the other thoughts in his over-crowded mind. He pulled off his boots and stumbled over to the bathroom. It was only after puking his guts up that he noticed Castiel standing just outside the bathroom.

“You are unwell,” Castiel said slowly. To Dean, it looked like he was stopping himself from entering the room, which was stupid because…

Dean suddenly remembered yelling at Cas about personal space and not coming into the bathroom when someone else is in there.

“You can come in, Cas,” Dean slurred, resting his head against the wall and looking at the angel in front of him with half-lidded eyes.

Castiel stepped into the room hesitantly, and gave Dean a long look.

“You need to talk to someone about this Dean, and you are not talking to Sam. So speak. Why are you tearing yourself up over Alastair?” Castiel’s question made Dean do a double take.

“Since when did you learn about humans enough to come up with that question?” Dean didn’t mean it as an insult, really, but in his drunken state, his words were blunt.

All he got in return to his question was a blank stare, and he sighed.

“Fine.” Dean looked down at his hands and scowled. “When the angels brought me to heaven to torture Alastair, I was back in hell. And even though it was Alastair on the rack, I could still hear him goading me on, telling me that if I tortured another soul, then I could save myself from that same fate. I… I did some bad things, Cas.” Dean had to swallow a few time to force the words past his throat. “I enjoyed it. And when those bastards made me do it again, I thought to myself ‘Is this what I’m fighting for? If heaven is making me do this, then why am I even trying to save it?’”

Castiel stood silent and calm. When Dean looked up to his face, he was so scared that he would find disgust and judgement in those blue eyes.

He gasped, because the look in Castiel’s eyes was heartbreaking.

“I know… that what my… brothers and sisters made you do is unacceptable. I would never condone that kind of behaviour. And… I am sorry that you had to go through that – in both heaven and hell. But doing… this-” Castiel gestured to Dean and then the toilet “-to yourself is not going to help. I- I know that, though you are a Righteous Man, you are not a faithful one. I know that you do not really believe in my father as he is in the Bible. Dean, I want you to get better, so if you need anything, anything at all, pray to me as a faithful man prays to God, and I will always listen.”

Silence followed Castiel’s impromptu speech.

Dean and Castiel stayed there just looking at each other before Dean nodded his head at the celestial being.

“Okay, Cas. I can do that,” Dean said softly. Dean felt his buzz and nausea slowly leave him as Castiel’s Grace flowed through his liver and gave Castiel a grateful glance. That was much better than what he usually went through. It was usually Sam’s irritating voice-

“Sammy!” Dean stood up quickly. “I can’t believe-”

Dean cut himself off as he cursed quietly. Self-loathing ran through him. How could he forget about Sammy? He never forgot about his brother on principle. Even in hell, Dean had held onto his brother.

Castiel watched as Dean bustled around for his phone and keys. Inside he was wondering why Sam and Dean seamed to be more worried about each other than themselves. Then he remembered that he had left Sam on the side of the road. In the rain.

Even though Castiel could not experience sickness in his vessel, he understood that Sam was still human despite the demon blood inside him, and could get ill.

Castiel felt the unfamiliar feeling of guilt. When Sam had asked him to help Dean, Castiel had marvelled at the use of the word please that had ended the request. Sure, people prayed every day, but rarely did Castiel hear the amount of emotion in a single word, as if his feelings were causing physical pain. And Castiel had left him in the rain to walk back to the motel after his brother had forgotten him at a bar.

Dean had grabbed his jacket and keys and was about to call Sam as he opened the door and froze.

“Sammy,” Dean said as he took in the sight of his soaked brother walking from the road. Castiel could just make out the anguish in his voice. But when Sam stepped in the room, he looked at Dean and smiled.

He waved off every apology Dean tossed his way, smiled at every grimace. Castiel couldn’t understand Sam Winchester. If Sam had forgotten Dean, Castiel was sure that his ears would be ringing with the yelling Dean would have given his brother. How could Sam be so forgiving? But then Castiel looked at Dean, and saw a light that hadn’t been in his eyes before. He saw hope. And he was sure that Sam saw it too.

Because whenever Sam looked at Dean, his smile got softer, and more real.

‡‡‡

Sam felt something in his chest rattle as he breathed through his nose. Walking in the rain probably wasn’t the best idea he’s ever had.

_But Dean is better. Thanks to Castiel. I couldn’t do anything for him. I was useless. I am useless. I don’t matter like Dean does._

And although Sam’s thoughts turned against him, he held onto them. Dean was needed to save the world. Sam was expendable.

Sam felt his exhaustion take over as he laid himself down, drawing the comforter close around him. He didn’t notice the concerned whiskey coloured eyes focused only on him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 10 points to whoever guesses who it is! And, I know it seems like Dean and Cas are gonna get all mushy with each other, but it has a purpose, and it is still Sastiel.


	3. In Sickness and in Health

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Making decisions for yourself is hard. Making them for your loved ones is even harder.

Previously: _But Dean is better. Thanks to Castiel. I couldn’t do anything for him. I was useless. I am useless. I don’t matter like Dean does._

And although Sam’s thoughts turned against him, he held onto them. Dean was needed to save the world. Sam was expendable.

Sam felt his exhaustion take over as he laid himself down, drawing the comforter close around him. He didn’t notice the concerned whiskey coloured eyes focused only on him.

 

Castiel could look at a human’s soul, could read their minds, he could grievously injure them and take away all their pain in one breath. But he didn’t. He kept his powers to himself, not willing to abuse someone’s privacy because of his whims. He was grateful that Dean had allowed him to see his soul, to let him see something that made up every fibre that is Dean Winchester. And he was respectful of Sam Winchester saying no. Castiel knew that humans were not as powerful as angels, but he did not think that it made them below them.

Gabriel, on the other hand, did not care about privacy. The world was his playground, and he had free reign. You only live once, after all.

The thoughts running through Sam’s head were dangerous. Not so much thoughts, as impressions. Minds weren’t books, you couldn’t really read them. But Gabriel and other angels could skim the minds, and if they happened to be thinking something clearly enough, with enough concentration, then you get pretty strong impressions. Like being useless. Or devotion, self-hatred, a desire to belong. All of these are what Gabriel picked up from Sam Winchester.

After Gabriel had met the Winchesters for the first time, he couldn’t get them out of his thoughts. So he visited them while they slept sometimes, just to make sure they were safe.

You see, when Gabriel left heaven, he’d left more than angels behind – he left his family behind. All alone for the duration of his absence with the exception of his fake creations to keep him company. And although Gabriel made sure Castiel was far away whenever he visited, he longed for contact with another seraph, the brush of wings, the feeling of his Grace being free, of the connection that angels naturally felt for one another.

But the Winchesters were more important at the moment, he just didn’t know why. Gabriel’s thoughts turned to when Sam and Dean had ‘hunted’ him. It was one of the most fun times he’d had with humans. Yeah, sure, they were trying to kill him. He understood why and thought that he probably would have done the same thing, had he been in their shoes. But the thrill of the chase was just like when he used to run from Michael’s ire when he’d prank the garrison, or when before Lucifer fell and Balthazar would help him get Gabriel back.

Gabriel had connected with the brothers. He couldn’t explain it or excuse it, it just happened. They were now part of his flock, his watch, even if they didn’t know it.

He left minutes before Sam woke up from a coughing fit.

†††††

Dean was up instantly. He remembered that sound from when Sammy was 12.

“Sam, c’mon man, wake up,” he muttered as he gently slapped his brother awake. “I know you’re in there, dude.”

Sam’s eyes opened, his eyes unfocused and his breathing strained.

“There you go, Sammy.” The name rolled of his tongue, and it made him realize he didn’t call him that much any more. “That a boy, Sammy, stay awake for me, yeah?”

Although, Dean didn’t know much about colds, he could tell that it was worse than it sounded. The sweat that was pouring off of Sam could have drowned a rat, and his skin was almost too hot to touch. He quickly went into the bathroom and got a towel with cold water.

“Dean?” Sam’s weak voice called out as he sat on the bed again.

“I’m right hear, Sammy. I’m not going anywhere.” Sam sighed and relaxed back into the blankets.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He was out of his league, and he needed help. Then he thought of his angel.

“Cas, can you hear me?” he said to the ceiling. “I know you said that you were my guardian angel, but Sammy needs a little pick me up after his walk in the rain and—”

“Hello, Dean.” Turning, he saw Castiel glance at him before stepping over to the bed and gazing down at Sam. “Samuel is sick.”

Dean held in his sarcastic remark. Obviously Sam was sick. But he needed Castiel’s help, and insulting him wouldn’t do any good. “Yeah, I kind of figured that out myself. Could you use your angel mojo on him, or something, and fix it? I mean, you fixed my liver--” Whatever Dean was going to finish his sentence with was drowned out by Sam.

“Dean,” he said, still obviously delirious. “You can’t just call and Angel of the Lord to fix something as small as bronchitis.”

“You’re problems aren’t small, Sammy, you hear me? Getting pneumonia and dying isn’t something you can just brush off,” Dean said angrily as he wiped off San’s forehead. Castiel wondered how someone could sound so angry and yet be so gentle. Turning to look at the silent angel, Dean aggressively gestured towards the younger Winchester brother. “Is there anything you can do?”

Castiel used examining Samuel as an excuse to refrain from answering for a moment. This was the first time Dean had asked the Angel of the Lord to do something rather than demanding it, and it made him reflect on the relationship the two brothers had.

Actually paying attention now, Castiel saw something in the younger brother that made him pause. Dean, seeing his hesitance, started to look panicked.

“You can help him, right? It can’t be anything too serious,” Dean said, his voice looking for reassurance.

“There is something advancing and enhancing the sickness in his lungs. I suspect that him being sick has sped along the withdrawal from the demon blood he already has in his system.” Silence followed Castiel’s statement, Sam being to delusional to pay attention and Dean from a mixture of shock, disgust, and resolve. “I can remove the recent ailments, but it will not make the symptoms of withdrawal go away or suppress them any. It must run its course. From what I understand, he has two options: weaning away from it, or stopping completely. Both options have their advantages and disadvantages.”

Dean’s head bowed a little as he continued to wipe his brother’s brow. He knew that he was part of the reason that Sam had turned to that demon bitch in the first place. His going to hell had pushed him towards her, and his attitude after he’d been pulled out had kept Sam away. Dean figured that he had to help his brother in any way he could to show Sammy that it doesn’t matter to him. Being there for Sam now is all he could do to show that the past is behind them.

“Which one has the best outcome?” he finally asked hoarsely, emotions fighting for dominance inside of him. He would be there for Sammy. Whatever it took.

“Weaning him away from the demon blood would be ideal if you wanted him to be coherent. Slowly lowering the amounts taken would eventually give him enough of a chance to resist later in life: if given the opportunity to drink again, he might be able to stop himself from doing so. Stopping everything would be faster, but the pain from denying him from drinking would be great. He may become delirious or try and persuade you to release him so he may find a demon and drain it. You would have to be stalwart in your decision lest you make this any worse than it already is. You must know, though, the taint that the blood creates is addictive in nature. He will never be able to fully remove the craving. No matter which path he takes from this moment, he will lust after it.” Castiel watched Sam as he tossed his head to and fro. The fight that this human had inside of him was astounding. Castiel was sure that any other in Samuel Winchester’s place would have given in by now.

Thinking to himself, Dean cursed. He would have to choose one or the other, but both options sounded horrid. To either continue drinking demon blood and feel better, or stop and feel like shit. He grimaced as he let his hand be held in Sammy’s, slick with sweat and gripping so tight, Dean was sure he could hear his bones creak. The pain on his little brother’s face made his mind rather simply.

He never wanted to see his Sammy like this ever again.

“We’ll wean him off of it,” he told the angel standing behind him. He lowered his face to hide his weakness, not wanting Castiel to see his indecision and fear.

Castiel nodded, though no one could see him do so, and moved forward. He reached out to touch is fingers to Samuel’s forehead, using his grace to clear the sickness from his lungs. Though he could feel the reaction of the demon’s blood, he felt none of the disgust that he assumed he should feel at its presence. Samuel’s face smoothed out as exhaustion took hold. He would need to drink soon, but Castiel knew humans required sleep in order to recuperate their strength. Maybe the rest would help him.

“How do you plan on getting him demon blood?” Castiel asked, curious. He was amazed that Dean had made the decision he had, and it taught him that humans were more complex than he originally realized.

“I’ll summon one at a crossroad and lock him in Bobby’s cellar if I have to. No way in Hell is that bitch coming near my brother again!” Although his words were harsh, he made sure that he didn’t focus his anger at Sam. He paused, watching the even breaths of his brother’s chest. “Thank you, Cas.”

The last part was whispered, and Dean’s was glad he hadn’t moved from his position because his face felt hotter than the first time his dad caught him masturbating in a motel room.

Castiel looked down at the back of Dean’s head, feeling the embarrassment he was trying so hard to hide.

“You are welcome, Dean Winchester,” he said, and he meant it. Even knowing Dean for as little as he has, he knew that words of appreciation were not something said very often. In their stead, gruff excuses and apathy more often than not were given.

Castiel wasn’t a Guardian Angel. He was a soldier. Watching humans was new to him. They confused him and intrigued him – as much as they could, with him having a limited amount of emotions.

So the devotion that these two humans had for each other was astounding. They protected each other as much as they could, and when they couldn’t, they helped pick up the pieces and put them back together. The love that they had for each other couldn’t be measured by Heaven’s structures, because these humans where willing to go to Hell for each other, just so the other could got to Heaven. That was something that angels couldn’t understand. Because as much as Castiel loved Balthazar, he would always follow Michael’s orders.

†††††

When Sam woke up, he felt off. Not because he was sick, but because he was sure he was supposed to be sick and he wasn’t. He felt almost better than he had in a long while. Almost, because he could still feel a pull inside him, making him think of the deepest reds and blacks. He could recognize the addiction for what it was, but that didn’t stop his throat from feeling dry or his mouth from salivating.

He opened his eyes and saw Dean dozing on a chair in an uncomfortable position. Relaxing, Sam felt content with just watching his brother sleep as he thought of what had happened the night before.

Their night at the bar, Dean drinking until he forgot about everything (even Sam), calling Castiel and being left in the rain. He vaguely recalled waking up and wishing he hadn’t, coughing and feeling hot and cold at the same time. He could hear voices, sounding angry*scared*disgusted. Sam remembered holding something tightly in his hands, stifling the hope that passed through him at the thought of ‘maybe Dean had held his hand, like he did when they were young’ because that was just wishful thinking.

“You are awake,” a voice said, startling Sam from his reverie. He turned and saw Castiel standing near the foot of his bed. The emotionless face staring back at him, just observing him. Feeling a little unnerved, Sam cleared his throat.

“Erm, yeah,” he replied. He didn’t know what to say and the angel was still watching him.

“I was not expecting you to be awake for several more, hours,” Castiel continued. “From my understanding, humans need rest after a period of sickness. You plausibly more than most. Had Dean not asked me to heal you, you probably would have worsened considerably. The malady in your lungs had progressed far more than what is usual due to your consumption of demon blood.”

Sam’s breath caught and he struggled to remain passive. He was saved from having to respond when Dean grumbled and stretched his neck out, waking up from his impromptu nap. He blearily looked up at Castiel before he glanced down at Sam.

Sam felt hurt bloom in his chest. Castiel made it clear that he could have died from his little cold, and Dean still searched for the angel before checking on his brother.

Dean stood suddenly, his knees almost failing to hold him up as he practically lunged for his brother. The fear he had felt at seeing Sammy in so much pain was slowly melting away, being replaced with relief. He was sure that whatever had happened was behind them now.

Castiel observed as the two brothers held each other’s gaze. He was studying their faces, trying to learn more about their relationship and how they emoted. He saw what he was beginning to interpret as determination on Dean’s face, as well as relief and consternation. Castiel tried to read Samuel’s face as he had his brother’s, but their were conflicting emotions. Hope and grief. Love and disgust. Pain and peace. He was starting to realize that Samuel was often at odds with himself.

Castiel wondered what Samuel thought about that made him feel contradictory emotions, unable to understand how one being could be in a state of antinomy at almost all times. He heard his name being called by Uriel and flew to the gateway to Heaven. He made sure his thoughts were firmly his own, knowing his brothers’ and sisters’ less than fond feeling for both the Winchesters and humans in general.

He wanted to study the humans more, and if he were to be punished for feeling this curiosity he knew that he would not be able to help the Winchesters. It was as if a warmth, different from his own grace, was guiding him in the right direction. He didn’t know what this meant, but he was still learning. Maybe later he would be able to interpret his own feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO SORRY!! I'm trying to get back into my groove. It's hard, and I don't want to leave any of you hanging. Your support means a lot to me, and reading some of your reviews makes me super excited to keep writing. Thank you!


	4. Coming To Terms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What do you want, Gabriel?” Castiel’s rough voice jerked Gabriel out of his charade.
> 
> “Listen, Cassie, and listen good: if you don’t keep a close eye on the younger brother, it’s gonna hit the fan.” Castiel narrowed his eyes and tilted his head, which in turn made Gabriel roll his eyes. “It’s an expression. What it means is that things will get bad. Just--”
> 
> Gabriel cut himself off and ran a hand through his hair. As he continued speaking, he kept his eyes on the ground.
> 
> “--make sure that you save them, alright? Both of them.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, sorry-not sorry for the WAY long no-update streak. I'm super busy with life, things are going well for me, and I've just not had time or motivation for this story. But, as I said before, I do plan on finishing. Here's the next installment, and thank you each and every one of you who encouraged me and liked my story - it helped find the right mental place I needed to be in order to finish up this chapter. I HAVEN'T FORGOTTEN YOU ALL!!!

“Castiel,” Gabriel appeared in front of the younger angel. Castiel tensed, meeting the arch-angels eyes, and Gabriel could see the fear and pain in them. “Don’t worry, I’m not here for Heaven, or anything equally boring.”

Gabriel pulled out a sucker from thin air and played nonchalance. He needed Castiel’s help on this. Even he could see how Castiel was intrigued by the Winchesters (who wasn’t, at this point) and what Gabriel needed was for his intrigue to turn into co-dependence.

“I just thought that we should have a little chat, little bro,” he glanced at Castiel quickly, determining if he was actually listening. “And stop trying to contact Heaven, I’ve already made sure that nobody would be able to overhear us, and you’re just embarrassing yourself.”

“What do you want, Gabriel?” Castiel’s rough voice jerked Gabriel out of his charade.

“Listen, Cassie, and listen good: if you don’t keep a close eye on the younger brother, it’s gonna hit the fan.” Castiel narrowed his eyes and tilted his head, which in turn made Gabriel roll his eyes. “It’s an expression. What it means is that things will get bad. Just--”

Gabriel cut himself off and ran a hand through his hair. As he continued speaking, he kept his eyes on the ground.

“--make sure that you save them, alright? Both of them.”

He didn’t see Castiel’s eyes widen in surprise, or crease with thought. When he looked back at the young angel, his face was carefully blank.

“I don’t know a lot about humans, but I know enough. You are… concerned for them.” It wasn’t a question, and Gabriel didn’t answer. His silence was answer enough. “Why? I have heard about when you encountered them. You made Sam witness Dean’s demise a little over a hundred times. From my understanding, that is not what you do to the ones you care about.”

Gabriel clenched his jaw. He knew he’d have to tell Castiel a little about the weird connection he’d felt with the Winchesters, but it didn’t make it any easier. So, he decided to put it in the simplest terms.

“The last time that I had had that much fun when someone was hunting me was when Luci was trying to track me down in Heaven for Mikey.”

Castiel’s eyes widened in surprise and understanding.

“They are your watch.” Another statement. Another silence. “I will save them. Just don’t…”

“I won’t. No interference from me, I’ll just sit back and eat my candy and you take care of them. But I will be showing up later. I don’t want to get between my brothers’ fighting – that’s why I left Heaven in the first place – but if it’s a choice between my old nest and my new one, I’m choosing my new one. Because these brothers actually care about each other. They fight for each other. They give everything for each other. And that’s what my brothers never did.”

Gabriel didn’t stay to see the range of emotions, however little there were, run over Castiel’s face. He’d laid his heart open for another angel in a way he’d never done before and now he was doing what he’d always done best.

He was running away.

†††††

Castiel was confused about many things and it seemed as if most of the problems he was facing were because of the Winchester brothers. After seeing the Arch-Angel, Gabriel for the first time, he had to add that to the list of things he didn’t understand.

He couldn’t see how Gabriel found solace in the humans, for one. Castiel found that nothing in the physical plane could compare to the feeling of just being in the presence of his brothers and sisters. Being able to feel the grace that surrounded each and every one of them was something Castiel missed sorely each time he left Heaven. Another thing he couldn’t understand was how Gabriel came to care for the two Winchesters. How had one of the most powerful beings in the world connected to one of his previous victims?

He kept his thoughts to himself, watching silently and unseen as Samuel and Dean sat in silence as they searched for another hunt to go on. There was nothing they could do to prevent the seals from breaking at the moment, the only reason Castiel wasn’t reprimanding the brothers for wasting time.

Ever since Samuel had become ill, Dean had made awkward attempts at starting the troublesome topic of Samuel’s addiction to demon blood. All efforts were quickly abandoned, Dean opting for safer territory instead.

Today was different.

“Sam,” Dean began, getting the attention of not only Sam and an invisible Castiel, but a hidden arch-angel as well. “I, uh, I’ve been needing to talk to you for a while.”

Sam blinked, and a worried expression passed over his face before he closed his laptop.

“Something the matter?” he asked, all his attention on his brother.

“Yes. Well, no, but yes.” Sam just looked confused, causing Dean to sigh and run his fingers through his hair. “It’s about the demon blood.”

The stiffening of Sam’s shoulders was noticeable to everyone, but Dean pretended he hadn’t noticed. Castiel thought that was more tactful than Dean was capable of being.

“When you were delirious with pneumonia, I called Cas to heal you,” he continued. “He said the demon blood had supercharged the whole thing like a damn battery. He couldn’t heal everything because of the blood, but he could get rid of the pneumonia. He said that he couldn’t get rid of the symptoms of withdrawal.” Dean made sure to keep eye contact with Sam, wanting him to know that it didn’t matter. “To help with the addiction, there’s only so much you can do to overcome it. One of the options was cutting it cold turkey. Although I would prefer you not drinking another drop, I think it would be better to wean you off of it.”

“What?!” Sam exclaimed. “Why would you want that?”

“Because it means that you won’t go through the pain and hallucinations that stopping it all at once would cause.” Sam was apparently too stunned to respond, so Dean continued. “That being said, I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Sam asked. This entire conversation was disorienting him.

“For a lot of things. Most recently, for forgetting you at the bar. That’s inexcusable. We’re supposed to have each other’s backs, and I didn’t have yours.” Dean grimaced, shaking his head. “I’m sorry for not understanding what you went through when I was in Hell. I was acting like my problems were the only ones that were important. I can’t say I understand why you did it entirely, but I think I know enough to where it would be hypocritical for me to be angry at you for hanging out with that bitch. And I’m sorry for not being there for you. I promised I would protect you and I failed.”

Sam’s jaw was clenched as he held his emotions at bay. The tell-tale sting behind his eyes was distracting, and his throat felt as if it were constricting, but he kept most of it from showing. He lowered his head slightly, glancing up at Dean and pursed his lips.

“I–” He cleared his throat. “You don’t have to apologize, Dean. You’ve been through more shit than anybody. Any problems I have are nothing compared to what you have to face. I’m not saying they aren’t important!” he rushed to say, seeing Dean getting ready to interrupt. “I’m just saying that you’ve had to deal with a lot, and I know something happened in Hell – you don’t have to tell me what, but you have to admit, if you didn’t remember something from down there you wouldn’t be all broody like you are – so whatever it is you’re handling about the situation, you’re probably doing a better job than anyone has a right to. But I know you’re going to press this, so I’ll accept it and drop the subject. And thank you, Dean.”

Dean nodded and stepped around the table, reaching out. His hand landed on Sam’s shoulder, squeezing it. He was pleasantly surprised when he felt Sam’s hand grab his and squeezed just as hard. This continued on for a few seconds before Sam’s phone pinged, causing both of them to tense slightly out of habit.

†††††

Gabriel watched the scene before him with happiness. He was glad to see the brothers working through their problems, even if he could still sense the negative thoughts running through Sam’s head. At least they weren’t as bad as they had been. Gabriel figured it would take a lot of work to get rid of all the insecurities the youngest Winchester had. He had probably been dealing with them for a long time, longer than he should have, for sure.

He could sense Castiel’s grace, the younger angel probably not even aware that he wasn’t containing it all. The vague feelings of contentment and understanding he felt coming from Castiel was telling, and Gabriel was sure that they would have to speak again soon, if only so Gabriel could talk with another seraph again.

Gabe ‘floated’, as much as one could float without a body, and studied the young Winchester as he and his brother talked about their next hunt. He suddenly was struck with the urge to brush his wings against him. Blinking, Gabriel thought of any reason not to. It wasn’t as if Sam would be able to notice…

He felt it when Castiel got a summons to Heaven, as well as when the young angel left. He thought of his desire to be in contact with Sam even if Sam wouldn’t be able to react. Impulsively, the trickster formed the energy and grace of his wings without making them solid and brought them around Sam. He was close enough that he could smell the sweat and deodorant in the air and felt the heat he radiated through his flannel shirt.

He sighed in contentment as the energy Sam gave off, energy that humans aren’t able to detect, interacted with his own grace.

†††††

Sam shivered. Everything felt charged. It was as if there was a live wire sending volts of electricity into the air, although it was a comforting kind of feeling. It almost felt like the hugs he got from Dean when he was a kid.

“Do you feel that?” he asked. About right after he asked that, the feeling disappeared, leaving him cold and, to his confusion, rather sad.

“What?” Dean glanced around the motel room like it would provide the answers.

“It almost felt like… I don’t know exactly.” Sam’s brow furrowed as he tried to think about how to explain it to his brother. “It felt like Castiel did when he looked at your soul.”

“What do you mean? I didn’t feel anything.”

Sam paused, shocked.

“How could you not feel that?! It was really strong,” he exclaimed.

“Maybe that’s a ‘you’ thing. You know, like the visions. Freaky, angel detector type stuff,” Dean said, grinning to take the sting from the words away.

“Maybe,” Sam said, unconvinced. He didn’t think that out of the two of them, he would be the one able to feel angels. If anything, being near them should be uncomfortable for him, seeing as how he had demon blood literally in his veins, as well as what he drank from Ruby.

“Anyway, about this hunt, what do you think it is?” Dean asked, drawing his attention back to the matter at hand. He let himself get lost in the conversation, deciding to ask Castiel about it when he saw him next.

Unnoticed by the two hunters, Gabriel was stunned. Humans with the ability to feel grace were rare by themselves, but to be able to feel an arch-angel’s grace was almost unheard of; the first and last human capable of doing so was a young woman that had been killed shortly after she helped with a war. He stared at Sam, still feeling the need to wrap his grace around the human and barely restraining himself. He quickly located Castiel, deciding to move their conversation to now instead of later. With one last glance at Sam, Gabriel flew through the planes of existence towards his ‘younger brother.’

“Gabriel,” Castiel said in greeting. The wariness was still there, but it was tempered greatly due to his knowledge of why he would be there.

“Cassy,” Gabe murmured. He looked at the younger seraph closely. Castiel felt somewhat uncomfortable being in the focus of such a powerful being and was slightly confused as to why the arch-angel was in front of him. “We should probably talk in private. I’m actually trying to not be found right now.”

Castiel nodded and moved to reach his hand out for Gabriel to take. The trickster stared at it for just a second before slotting his own hand into his brother’s, touching an angel for the first time in centuries. He could feel his grace move with Castiel’s – knowing he could feel it too by the way his eyes widened – and rejoiced with the warmth of the interaction.

Before Castiel could say anything about it, Gabriel gathered up his wings and took flight, bringing the both of them to a place of Gabriel’s creation. That was what humans (and most other angels) didn’t know: God wasn’t the only one with the power to create – he blessed his four arch-angels with a piece of his power. Not that they’ve ever done any good with it.

Gabriel turned away from Castiel, grabbing a drink from the bar he had brought them to. Every patron at the bar was created by him. It’s a good thing Castiel didn’t know that, Gabriel thought, that might tell him more about me than I want him to know for now. 

“Why have you brought me here?” Castiel asked. Something in his voice made Gabriel turn back at him and promptly burst out laughing. Castiel was standing strait and rigid, his eyes wide with discomfort and he was moving constantly, trying to make sure he didn’t touch anyone around him. “Gabriel, why have you brought me here, I was under the impression that you needed to speak with me.”

Quickly getting himself under control, Gabriel motioned for Cassy to take a seat.

“Don’t worry about these guys, they’re mine,” he said casually, watching the confusion run across Castiel’s face at his wording. “Let me cut strait to the point, then – Sammy can feel grace.”

“That is highly unlikely. If anything, the demon blood would prevent that,” the younger angel protested.

“I totally understand what you’re saying, but I’m saying you’re wrong. That little scene you witnessed-” he ignored the surprise and understanding Castiel was radiating “-well, just after that, I just couldn’t help myself and I wrapped my wings around not-so-little Sammy Winchester and you wanna know what happened? He felt it! Not only did he feel that, he mentioned feeling when you looked at Dean’s soul feeling the same! If he can’t feel angel grace, tell me how he could feel two different instances of an angel using its grace-”

“We cannot let this get out.” Castiel interrupted. “If any others learn of this-”

“I know. But you needed to know. And… I wanted to see my baby brother.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> He-he, how was it?!?


End file.
